


teenage dream

by shrack



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, Season 2 AU, cant believe i finally gave in and did it, i dont want to tag it hurt comfort because its not except for that one part, short blood mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:06:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26086924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrack/pseuds/shrack
Summary: anonymous asked: Seblaine season 2 AU?
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe
Comments: 6
Kudos: 79





	teenage dream

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Blaine is absolutely a junior in Season 2, so, Sebastian is too.  
> 2\. A lot of the plots don't really make sense if it's not Kurt, because Sebastian has no ties to the New Directions at all, so those are gone. Honestly, not too sad about it.  
> 3\. Can you tell I didn't feel like making song choices? I just knew it couldn't be Candles, okay.
> 
> There is a blood mention in the lacrosse game section, but it's not graphic.

As much as he does not want to admit it, Sebastian is completely and utterly lost.

There is no reason for a high school to be this large, even if it is a rich private school. It has two  _ separate  _ swirling staircases, and Sebastian’s pretty sure this is the one that heads towards Warbler rehearsal—a kid had told him where to go, Trent maybe?, but disappeared before Sebastian could just quietly trail him until he got the hang of the school. He’s not above asking for help, but it makes him feel like just another freshman, which he  _ isn’t _ , so...maybe he’s trying to act a bit proud.

It also doesn’t help that they wear uniforms, so for the most part, it’s impossible to tell which people Sebastian’s actually met in classes before just by looking at the back of their head. Every rich white boy looks exactly the same, especially on this staircase, but Sebastian’s been eyeing the back of this one dude’s head something fierce. Something  _ feels  _ familiar about this particular guy, even though Sebastian has had conversations with maybe five people total. Fuck it. He wants to get to sign up for auditions before all the good slots are taken.

“Excuse me,” Sebastian asks, and the guy in question turns on a heel to look back up at him. Who Sebastian does not recognize, but  _ hello gorgeous. _ “Would you mind pointing me towards the senior commons? Got myself turned around.”

The guy smiles, and it brightens up his entire face. “Of course. When I was a freshman I couldn’t find my way around until November.”

Sebastian’s brows raise with a smirk. “Do I look like a freshman?”

Handsome Guy’s mouth opens and closes for a second, obviously trying to think of something smooth to say in response. “I’m so sorry, I just assumed—” He points with his thumb over his shoulder. “I’m headed there too, and I know a shortcut, if you want. My name’s Blaine.”

“Sebastian.” Sebastian holds his hand out for a handshake, which Blaine accepts. “I’d be honored.”

Blaine keeps holding Sebastian’s hand, nodding his head towards another hallway, opposite to where people are rushing. “Follow me.”

Blaine drops his hand once they’re out of the rush of people, and although Sebastian assumes it was only so they don’t lose each other in the crowd, when it ends he can’t help but feel somewhat disappointed. He keeps his hand tucked in itself when he shoves it into his pocket.

“Was everyone out there heading to watch the Warblers?” Sebastian asks as he looks around, trying his best to commit the hallway to memory.

“Probably. The Warblers are like, rockstars.” When Sebastian looks over, Blaine looks awfully proud of himself. Sebastian can’t help but scoff.

“Must be pretty boring around here if the acapella group is what you call ‘rockstars’.”

Blaine pays the comment no mind, as he turns a final corner and then pushes open heavy-looking double doors. Huh. Really was a shortcut. Sebastian glances back the other way to pin down a landmark—he’ll definitely be going this way from now on.

Inside, there must be fifty students all huddled around different corners of this common room. The sight almost floors Sebastian, maybe the rockstar analogy wasn’t  _ too _ far off after all.

“Wow. You weren’t kidding,” Sebastian says under his breath, and it’s Blaine’s turn to give a coy smile.

“Maybe you should try out, new kid.” Blaine moves close as he says this, unnecessarily adjusting the collar on Sebastian’s blazer, and gives a wink. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”

Sebastian is suddenly  _ very _ invested in this little game they’re playing. Sure enough, the other Warblers start singing, and Blaine assumes his spot up front, singing lead vocals for “Teenage Dream”. Everyone’s excitement is very infectious. Sebastian stands front and center, bopping along with everyone else, as Blaine’s eyes don’t really leave him for too much of the performance. Sebastian takes the time to properly check out Blaine—the on-stage confidence does him wonders, and he thinks vaguely what he might look like underneath all the baggy clothes if he looks good in that jacket. 

As the song comes to a close, people start meandering about, and Sebastian makes a half-hearted attempt to look busy as Blaine is chatting with the other Warblers, probably about the performance. The step-touch is a bit basic, maybe Sebastian will rally for some more movement in their choreography. He doesn’t even  _ see  _ a sign-up sheet or an audition book, but Blaine mentioned auditions, so there must be some way to get in. Would they even take another junior? The whole thing leaves a lot of questions.

“So,” Blaine’s voice appears behind Sebastian, who turns, “what’d you think?”

“I think the step-touch is about five years ago,” Sebastian says, and he watches as Blaine’s smile falters at the edges. “But I think I could help with that.”

Blaine folds his arms over his chest. “Is that so?”

“I’m a trained dancer, actually. Unless that’s not something you want on your little rockstar team.”

Blaine wets his lips, and Sebastian’s eyes flick shamelessly down to look, and when he looks back up, Blaine is noticeably a bit flustered. “Can you sing?”

Sebastian just tilts his head as if to say, "Come on." Blaine smiles. “Then I’ll talk to Wes and David.”

Not a few days later, Blaine catches him off-guard by finding him after class. Sebastian’s got his head down, still trying to shove his notebook into his bag, and he nearly knocks Blaine down.

“Shit, sorry,” Sebastian mutters, and Blaine dusts himself off with a smile.

“No worries. Are you free after school?”

“We’ve only just met, Killer, and you’re asking me on a date?”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “Wes and David want to talk to you later, if you’re free.”

“I have lacrosse.”

Blaine spins on his heel to walk backwards in front of Sebastian. “Then we’ll make it quick.”

He banks left down the hallway, and Sebastian slows to watch him leave.

Wes and David are quite possibly the least intimidating people in the world, Sebastian decides, as he spots the table by the coffee shop that the three of them are sitting at. Together with Blaine he assumes they make up what is basically the board of the Warblers, if what little context clues he has are anything to go by, and he sets his lacrosse gear on the floor before he takes his seat.

“Sebastian, this is Wes and David.” Blaine gestures to both of them, and Sebastian gives a nod at their polite smiles.

“Am I in trouble?”

The three of them laugh quietly. It makes Sebastian weirdly uneasy. Stop putting up niceties.

“We don’t typically take upperclassmen into our ranks at the beginning of the year, since we always want to make sure the grades are balanced,” Wes says, voice low and soothing, like he’s comforting a spooked horse. “But Blaine put in a good word for you.”

“He says you’re a trained dancer?” David adds.

Blaine smiles, and Sebastian smirks right back at him. “Yes, I trained at a mom and pop studio when I lived in France.”

So, by next week, Sebastian is being introduced to the group in their weirdly professional way.

“And now, let’s welcome the newest addition to the Warblers, Sebastian Smythe,” Wes declares, wielding his weird little gavel, as Sebastian stands up to wave at everyone in the room. Blaine, who is perched on the arm of the couch, gives him a thumbs up like a proud father at a baseball game. It’s charming, from him.

_ Bang bang. _ Stupid little gavel. “And our oldest tradition, for our newest Warbler, an actual warbler.”

Sebastian is confused for a moment, and when he looks to where Wes is looking, Blaine’s smile greets him.

“Sebastian, meet Pavarotti.”

At Blaine’s feet sits a fucking bird. A tiny, yellow bird. Sebastian’s face falls.

“You’re kidding me.”

“This bird is a member of an unbroken line of canaries who have been at Dalton since 1891.”

Sebastian waves a hand at the cage, which Blaine is now holding and walking towards him with. "It's a bird."

Wes keeps talking about the importance of tradition, and Blaine, through gritted teeth, pushes the cage towards Sebastian.

"Take the bird," he hisses.

"I don't want the fucking bird," Sebastian whispers back.

" _ Take _ the  _ bird,"  _ Blaine repeats, and shoves the cage into Sebastian's hands. Sebastian puts on his best smile and turns back towards the council.

"Thank you for the opportunity to join. I could take or leave the bird.”

Blaine hides a laugh behind a cough, and Sebastian takes the seat on the couch opposite Blaine as the rehearsal launches full steam ahead into practice for Sectionals. In the silent moments, he looks over to watch Blaine. He’s fully focused on the decision-making process, accepting solos gracefully and modestly. This must be a pretty regular thing, Blaine being handed solos, because nobody else seems to bat an eyelid at Blaine getting nominated for them. When Blaine is focused, he plays with his thumbs, his hands folded neatly on his lap. 

Pavarotti gets shoved into a corner of his dorm room. He feeds it the appropriate amount, as Thad once helpfully told him on his way out of rehearsal, but a quick google search revealed that birds are pretty much good to hang out on their own more often than not. Sebastian prefers it that way. Although he might start leaving it in the hallway if it doesn’t shut the hell up overnight.

On his way down the hallway towards rehearsal, he spots Blaine up ahead of him, frantically checking his watch. He’s about to start jogging, but, where’s the fun in showing up on time.

“Got somewhere to be?” Sebastian calls, and Blaine nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Well,” Blaine smooths the front of his blazer. “At least you’ll be late with me.”

Sebastian smiles and catches up to Blaine, starting again towards the rehearsal room. 

“Are you auditioning for a solo?” Blaine asks. Sebastian hums.

“Figured it wouldn’t hurt to give it a shot. Although I’ve heard everyone opts to hand them to you, since you’re basically sex on a stick and you sing like a dream.”

Blaine hangs his head with a breathy laugh. “The Warblers are just very gracious to me.”

Sebastian hums an affirmative again. Blaine takes the moment to look up at Sebastian.

“What are you going to sing?”

“Oh, something to get the blood pumping. ‘Don’t Cry For Me Argentina’.”

Blaine’s eyes widen a bit.

“I’m kidding, Killer. Figured I’d cater to the top forty vibe, I won’t spoil it for you.”

“Oh,” Blaine murmurs, and when they pull up to the room, Sebastian pulls open the door for him with a tip of his head.

“Your majesty.”

Blaine scoffs. “Thank you, court jester.”

Sebastian ends up making it to the second round of auditions, but the solos, unsurprisingly, go to Blaine regardless. Over coffee, Blaine explains that the council sometimes just decides things, but honestly, it doesn’t bother Sebastian all that much. There’s more time, there’s more solos, and most of his energy is going into trying to push these preppies into more exciting choreography.

“I can’t believe you studied dance in France,” Blaine says as they head to their usual coffee spot, and Sebastian shrugs a shoulder.

“It definitely sounds more prestigious than it actually was. But it helped me weasel my way in, didn’t it?”

Blaine smiles as he sits down. “It  _ is  _ impressive. And you do lacrosse. I should really get to those games.”

“Oh yeah?” Sebastian chuckles. “We don’t have a cheerleading team to get you there.”

Blaine rolls his eyes, and Sebastian tilts his head. “I’m a sports fan too, you know. My dad trained me to be a Buckeyes fan.”

“Oh, I know nothing about sports outside of playing lacrosse,” Sebastian says with a wave of his hand, and Blaine starts cracking up. Something in Sebastian’s stomach flutters happily as he watches Blaine fold in on himself as he laughs.

Sectionals come and go, somehow ending in a tie that makes sense for neither winning team. The Warblers swear to start pushing harder for Regionals after the winter break, but as that time approaches, there is a calm air that surrounds Dalton. Well, not really, as midterms start to pick up in full swing, but the silence that washes over the building is calming to Sebastian. He can finally walk the halls without screaming teenage boys, which is nice. Pavarotti starts molting, too, so even the bird shuts up a bit so Sebastian can focus on studying. Winter, despite Sebastian hating every second of the cold, brings along some perks with it.

He sits in the senior commons, shitty bird sitting on the table in front of him, reading one of the assigned books for his class as he waits for rehearsal to start. There’s a deep knock on the front door, and as Sebastian looks up from the book, Blaine is already walking in.

He sits down next to Sebastian, thighs practically touching. There are multiple other empty couches, but… “You know rehearsal doesn’t start until five, right?”

Sebastian directs his attention back to the book. “Roommate has a girl over. Didn’t want to be there for it.”

“He’s not allowed to do that.”

“And I’m not a snitch,” Sebastian counters. “Are you?”

Blaine leans forward to take a good look at Pavarotti. “No, I suppose not. He’s molting.”

Sebastian grunts. “Feathers everywhere.”

“It’s alright, he’ll start singing again in no time.”

“When do I get to give it back?”

Blaine shoots Sebastian a look as he sits back. “Wes usually takes him for the break. Why do you hate him so much?”

“He’s annoying. He doesn’t shut up, and I’m not a particularly pet-friendly person. Especially birds. They’re all little assholes.”

“Speaking of assholes—” Blaine pats Sebastian’s shin and stands up, facing him and smiling down at him.

“Is that your way of seducing me, Killer?”

“ _ No _ ,” Blaine laughs. “I need you to sing with me.”

Sebastian raises his eyebrows.

“That’s not me seducing you, either. I got a gig singing ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ in the King’s Island Christmas Spectacular.” Blaine accentuates his statement with a flourish of his hands, which Sebastian smirks at.

“Am I allowed to sing with  _ the  _ Blaine Anderson? Will the council permit it?”

Blaine, who has a tendency to simply skip things Sebastian says in favor of doing anything else, crosses the room to plug his phone into the speakers. “Are you going to help me out here or not?”

Sebastian sets the book face down on the couch and pushes himself up. “Did I really ever have a choice?”

The duet has Blaine practically chasing him around the room against his will, and if it were any other time, maybe Sebastian wouldn’t indulge his whims as much as this. But there are moments where they get close and Sebastian can’t help but search Blaine’s face, glance between his eyes, sneak a look at his lips. At some point in the past few months his infatuation or whatever with Blaine surpassed simply finding him attractive into something  _ real  _ for him, and it scares him. The two of them collapse on the couch for the final harmony of the song, and Sebastian’s hyper-aware of all the points of their body that are touching. He wants to live in this moment just for a second longer, both catching their breath in comfortable silence, but he knows better.

“You’re totally ready to woo some old ladies.”

Blaine breathes out a laugh as he stands up. “You’re way better than my actual duet partner is actually going to be.”

Sebastian wets his lips, and he swears he watches Blaine, this time, follow the action with his eyes before going to grab his phone. This back and forth is dangerous. But Sebastian’s a thrillseeker.

* * *

As promised, the first two months back at school are heavy on rehearsal for Regionals. It’s a lot of learning parts and testing out songs, and on Fridays, dance-focused rehearsals with Sebastian, David, and Jeff leading the force. Turns out they did have some dancers, who would’ve thought? Lacrosse season also starts in January, so Sebastian gets a bit frazzled trying to sort things out until the routine starts fitting together. He and Blaine still frequent the coffee shop in the school, though, and the week of Valentine’s day finds them waiting on line.

“I don’t get why the school gets so into decorating for the holidays,” Sebastian sighs, poking at a stuffed cat littered in hearts. “Especially for a holiday that’s just heterosexual propaganda.”

Blaine scoffs and picks up the cat Sebastian’s poking, holding it close to his face and wiggling it so it looks like it’s waving. “What’s not to love about this little guy?”

Sebastian pushes the cat away, and Blaine smiles down at it fondly before putting it down to move up in line.

“People have been celebrating Valentine’s day for centuries, Bas. And call me a hopeless romantic but it’s my favorite holiday.”

Sebastian stares at Blaine. “You’re a hopeless romantic.”

Blaine points his finger and uses it as he keeps talking. “I think there’s something really great about a day where you’re encouraged to just, lay it all on the line and say to somebody—” Blaine puts on the puppy dog eyes for this hypothetical, “‘I’m in love with you.’”

Sebastian straightens, his shoulders tensed, and he looks away from Blaine. “Well, I’m not one for all the romance.” Even to his own ears, he sounds unconvincing. Blaine, though, seems to really want to try and persuade Sebastian that he’s the one who is in the wrong.

“You know,” he barrels on, “this year I want to do something for it. I need your opinion on this. But there’s this  _ guy _ , that I sort of...like.”

Sebastian swallows thickly, still not looking over as they step forward in line.

“And I’ve only known him for a little while. But I want to tell him that I think my feelings are starting to change into something...deeper. Do you think it’s too much to sing to somebody on Valentines?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Sebastian says, finally turning to make eye contact. “Especially in public. That’s not worth the humiliation for either party.”

Blaine purses his lips as he thinks, but gets distracted by the barista asking what they want.

“I’ll get a medium cappuccino, he’ll have a medium drip coffee, and maybe I can convince him to share one of the non-heart-themed cookies,” Sebastian chimes in, sticking a ten dollar bill over the register. “And keep the change.”

Blaine smiles. “You know my coffee order?”

“Of course I do,” Sebastian says with a wink and a click between his teeth, and excuses himself to the pick up counter. “And I’m not letting you get any overpriced themed cookies.”

Blaine has this silly puppy dog look on his face again, which apparently is the best way that Sebastian can describe it in his head. The smile takes up his entire face, and although Sebastian has no reason to think that the person Blaine’s referring to is him, he can hope a little bit in the privacy of his own mind.

Now, Sebastian has always disliked Valentine's day. Nothing about it has been fun since he was young enough to gain candy from it during school. Maybe it's left over bitterness from when he was ten and asked a girl he liked to be his valentine, but his parents always went big for the holiday and it always rubbed him the wrong way since their divorce.

Blaine ends up texting Sebastian and asking him to go to the mall with him for emotional support. Supposedly the crush in question was a junior manager at the Gap—it's an incredibly Blaine move to ask a guy out while he's at his job. (Blaine defends himself by saying that it's a romantic gesture, but Sebastian thinks he's full of shit.)

Sebastian lingers by the door for an easy exit, and fingers through a rack while he keeps eyes on Blaine and this man. He's attractive at least, so Blaine has some semblance of taste, but from what Sebastian can tell he's nervous to even be seen near Blaine. There's conversation, nervous glancing around, the guy gets close and Sebastian feels jealousy flicker hotly up his face. He's not possessive, he has nothing  _ to  _ possess, but it makes his jaw clench regardless. Blaine, though, turns to leave rather quickly, and nods towards the door for Sebastian to follow him out. As they go, while Blaine isn't looking, Sebastian shoots a glare at Gap guy.

Blaine's already sitting on the bench outside when Sebastian joins him, the shorter rubbing his hands together between his legs, elbows propped on his thighs. The cold has tinged his nose already, the tips of his ears, too. Sebastian pulls his own jacket tight around him.

"Closet case?" Sebastian asks finally, and Blaine huffs out a breath.

"How'd you know?"

Sebastian shrugs. "He's a bottle blonde surfer type who works at Gap. Quick math."

Blaine pulls his hat out of his coat pocket and tugs it on over his ears. "I'm glad I didn't waste the song."

"He didn't deserve it."

"It was going to be 'When I Get You Alone'. Robin Thicke."

"Oh my. I'm blushing just thinking about it."

Blaine laughs and looks over at Sebastian. That familiar puppy look is back on his face, he seems grateful for the distraction. Sebastian bumps his shoulder against Blaine's.

"Feel free to give me a personal performance any time."

Blaine hangs his head and laughs again, eyes closed, before sitting back against the bench. They sit close together, despite the space, as though it's habit at this point.

"Do you want to hit Starbucks before we go? My treat, for dragging you here."

"I think you're trying to get me addicted to caffeine." Sebastian stands up and holds his hand out to help Blaine. Blaine pulls himself up and stays close to Sebastian as they start walking.

"You say that like you  _ weren't  _ already drinking coffee on the regular."

“Touché,” Sebastian chuckles, and notices, again, that Blaine hesitates in dropping their hands. Blaine’s wearing gloves, whereas Sebastian refuses to admit that his hands get cold, and typically opts for shoving them into his pockets and hoping for the best. Blaine’s hand is shockingly warm in his own, before they separate and Sebastian tucks his hands away.

Blaine scrunches his nose in disgust as they walk into the Starbucks, which is appropriately decked out in Valentine’s day decor as well. Sebastian smirks. “Well you’ve definitely changed your tone.”

“I just embarrassed myself in public, asking a guy out. In Ohio. A guy who isn’t even out of the closet. I don’t think I’ve ever made a fool of myself that badly, and I’ve performed at theme parks.”

Sebastian whistles lowly. “The theme parks are definitely worse.”

“I just can’t believe I made it all up in my head,” Blaine sighs, tugging his hat off and shoving it in his pocket. His hair sticks up out of the gel a bit, a soft-looking curl or two in the front popping out, and Sebastian’s fingers twitch in his pockets.

“The mind is a fickle place,” Sebastian says, jutting his chin towards a straight couple, the girl clearly on the verge of tears. “Your Valentine’s could’ve gone that way.”

Blaine snickers, swatting at Sebastian’s shoulder. “Don’t be mean. Let them have their privacy.”

“They’re breaking up in a public place, they don’t deserve privacy. Besides, I’m allowed to be mean. I had a tough day.”

Blaine raises his eyebrows. “Is that so?”

“It’s very serious. I just watched my friend ask a guy out who isn’t me. Heartbreaking.”

“Oh?” Blaine’s lip is quirked into a smile. “And what makes you think this friend of yours would ask  _ you _ out?”

“Between all the flirty duets, the sidelong glances, and the shameless checking out, he might’ve just not found the time.”

The blush that sneaks onto Blaine’s face can’t be blamed on the cold, which makes Sebastian’s chest swell proudly. He likes being able to rebut in this game, but it seems like Blaine is genuinely caught off-guard. It’s the closest Sebastian will ever get to a confession, and maybe Blaine actually realizes that.

“Well,” Blaine starts slowly, following as the two of them step forward in line, “if I were this friend. I think they just don’t know what they’re doing. They’re good at acting like they do, but if they were being  _ honest,  _ they’ve never been anyone’s boyfriend before.”

The tactic Blaine’s going about this with is intriguing, and Sebastian hums in agreement. “I’m not really the boyfriend type, either.”

Blaine’s turned to look fully at Sebastian now, and Sebastian tilts his head to the side to look down at him, still facing forward, a small smirk ever present on his lips. “I really care about you, Bas. And I don’t want to mess this up.” Blaine is serious now, which Sebastian doesn’t love seeing, but something about it makes the back of his neck burn.

“I thought we were talking about my friend?”

The two of them laugh softly as they get to the front of the line, this time Blaine stepping in front of Sebastian at the counter before he can protest.

“Can I get a grande drip coffee, and my friend’ll get a grande cappuccino,” Blaine orders, and Sebastian rolls his eyes.

“You know my coffee order.”

Blaine turns around to wink at Sebastian. “Of course I do.”

* * *

After a slow Friday at Warbler rehearsal, Sebastian finds Blaine as he’s packing up his belongings. 

“Hey, what are you doing tonight?” he asks, swiping a book out from under Blaine’s hands. Blaine sighs and tries to snatch it back, but Sebastian tugs it over his head with a sly grin.

“Studying, rehearsing the dance moves that  _ you _ , might I remind you, told me I could afford to get better at.”

Sebastian holds out the book to Blaine, but snatches it back out of his reach. “As sexy as that sounds, let’s shake things up.”

Blaine successfully wrestles the book from Sebastian’s hands. “No.”

“Let me finish. I get you a fake ID and we head over to Scandals in West Lima.”

Blaine’s face falls. “That’s the gay bar.”

“Unless you’re suddenly not gay. Or are you saying I’m not allowed there because I’m bi?” 

Blaine is taken aback. “Since when?”

“I’m not sure if I should be offended.”

“No, but—I’m sorry I assumed otherwise.”

Sebastian waves a hand dismissively, while Blaine shakes his head as he finishes putting his things away. “The last time I was there I met the man of my dreams on the dance floor.”

“And I take it your relationship with him is going well.” Blaine heads towards the door, and Sebastian walks behind him.

“Sadly, no. We broke up about twenty minutes after we met.”

Blaine juts his bottom lip into a pout. “Heartbreaking.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Come on, live a little.”

Blaine gives Sebastian a pleading look, but it’s clear Sebastian isn’t backing down without a fight, because he lets out a long sigh and adjusts his grip on his bag. “Fine. But if you even leave me for a second—”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Killer.”

When Sebastian goes to pick up Blaine at his dorm, he’s weirdly nervous. He’s the one that asked  _ Blaine _ , yet he has to take a few moments before knocking to shake some of the nervous energy off. Any of that dissipates when Blaine opens the door to reveal the dorkiest schoolboy outfit ever, to rival Sebastian’s field hockey shirt and jeans.

“No, absolutely not,” Sebastian says, ignoring Blaine’s protests as Sebastian pushes past him into his room. The dorm is like every other, and Sebastian’s not surprised to see Blaine’s side littered with sheet music, vinyl records, and very comforting colors and textures on his bed. He rushes to the closet, and starts flipping through.

“ _ Sebastian _ , answer me, what is so bad about this outfit?” Blaine says defiantly, hands on his hips, and Sebastian turns around to look him up and down.

“The whole bashful schoolboy thing is super hot,” Sebastian pulls a soft, burgundy cardigan out of the closet, “but it’s not the right vibe for tonight. T-shirts?”

Blaine, whose mouth is opening and closing like a fish, just points towards his cabinet. Sebastian digs through until he finds a striped shirt that he figures works well enough.

“Any other time I wouldn’t do this to you,” Sebastian explains, waving a hand up and down his own body, “I’m hardly the end all be all for fashion. But the drag queens will have a field day with you.”

Although Blaine still looks defensive, he loops a finger in his bowtie to start pulling it off. Something about it is incredibly distracting to Sebastian, because Sebastian clears his throat and points towards the door. “I’ll wait outside.”

Blaine bounces his knee nervously the entire Uber ride to the bar. Sebastian wants to reach over and hold his knee down, but he mostly thinks better of it. This is a night he is treating Blaine to, and there’s no real way to prove that Scandals is worth the time except for being there in the moment. As they get out of the car and walk in, Sebastian grabs Blaine’s shoulders and squeezes gently. 

“Relax, Killer. Nobody here bats an eyelid.”

Blaine’s shoulders droop a bit under his hands. “Don’t leave me.”

It takes all of half an hour to get Blaine happy drunk. Which, to Sebastian’s surprise, is much faster than he anticipated. Granted they do order harder alcohol, but Sebastian’s merely tipsy at the edges and Blaine seems insistent that they take to the dance floor. He really has been missing out by not taking Blaine here sooner—it’s not a habit he acts on a lot, but there are weeks where he starts itching to leave the campus of Dalton in any way he can. 

Someone sidles up behind Blaine later in the night, which Blaine doesn’t pay much mind to. He’s busy breaking it down to Beyonce, Sebastian at the counter refreshing his drink and getting water for Blaine to break up the alcohol. That jealousy from the Gap returns with a vengeance, and he ditches his own drink on the counter in favor of getting back on the dance floor. Fuck it, he can afford another one.

Blaine gasps when Sebastian appears in front of him and grabs one of Blaine's hands, spinning him outward and away from the stranger. The stranger, slowly and drunkenly, looks up at Sebastian, clearly pissed, but Sebastian grins and gestures with the glass of water for him to beat it. He wants to glare at him all the way home, but Blaine starts dancing with Sebastian’s hand, and it tears him out of it.

Sebastian leans down towards Blaine’s ear so he can hear. “For you, so you’re not out all day tomorrow.” He pushes the glass of water into Blaine’s hand, and he laughs.

By the time they head out, Sebastian’s more or less holding Blaine upright. Not that he needs help  _ standing,  _ but in the ten feet to the door Blaine drifted off one way or another multiple times. Sebastian’s hand is slung over Blaine’s shoulders, and Blaine’s arm is around Sebastian’s waist, holding their sides flushed together. All of Blaine’s hair has freed itself now, puffing upward into a mess of curls. Sebastian has a strange urge to tuck his nose into it. God, he must be losing it.

Blaine’s fully leaning on him when they get in the car. Sebastian doesn’t bother to move his arm.

“You have fun?” he murmurs with a soft chuckle, and Blaine nods, the curls shifting with it.

“Mm, you were right,” Blaine hums. But he sits up suddenly, and jabs a finger at Sebastian. “This time. I don’ want this to go right to your head.”

Sebastian tosses his head back to laugh, and Blaine giggles along with him. “My ego won’t get too big, don’t worry.”

The trek to Sebastian’s room takes so long that neither of them really think twice about Blaine sleeping over. It’s late, Blaine already nearly fell asleep in the car, and it’s not like Sebastian’s going to say  _ no.  _ Sebastian turns to suggest Blaine change into more comfortable clothes, but Blaine’s already asleep, tucked under all the blankets and face halfway obscured by how he’s buried himself in the pillow. Sebastian smiles to himself, finishes changing into pajamas, and only has a mild crisis about how small the bed actually is as he goes to climb into it.

Blaine isn’t even sprawled out too far, but Sebastian doesn’t want to invade his personal space if he’s not awake to protest. He can, though, feel where Blaine is laying, and in the quiet he can hear Blaine’s soft breathing, slow and even. Sebastian lays on his back, an arm tucked underneath his head, and watches the back of Blaine’s head for a while. Blaine snuffles and shifts at one point, Sebastian tensing, but he quiets back down and even graciously afforded Sebastian another inch or so. When Sebastian finally falls asleep, it’s to the sound of Blaine’s breath.

His roommate Brass, who has been known to go on early morning runs  _ before  _ his football practice, comes back early, and stares at the lumps in the bed. “Dude, don’t you have lacrosse soon?”

Sebastian pokes his head out of the bathroom, toothbrush dangling out of his mouth. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Brass stares incredulously at Sebastian, who’s laughing, before looking back at the lump of Blaine stirring around in the bed. Blaine shoots up, squints bleary-eyed around the room, before grumbling something and flopping back down.

“What the fuck,” Brass hisses as he rushes towards Sebastian in their bathroom, effectively blocking him in.

“We didn’t do anything, relax,” Sebastian says around his brush, “we went out last night and I didn’t trust him to go back to his room alone.”

“So chivalrous.”

“Hey, you have girls over and I don’t complain.” Sebastian points the toothbrush at Brass, who makes a disgusted face and backs up. “Don’t be homophobic.”

“I’m not—dude, just. Don’t leave him here all day. I don’t wanna deal with him when I get back from practice.”

Sebastian salutes Brass as he leaves. By the time he’s finished up in the bathroom, Blaine is sitting up, a sour look on his face. On his way over, Sebastian grabs the Advil off his desk and chucks it next to him.

“So you can function today. Water’s on the table.”

Blaine grunts and scrubs a hand over his eyes, then dragging it through his hair. “Sorry I’m such a mess. How are you okay?”

Sebastian shrugs. “Didn’t drink that much. I’ve got lacrosse in a few.”

Quickly, Blaine gives up trying to flatten his hair using his hand, flopping his hand down with a frustrated sigh. Sebastian indulges himself, and reaches up to tug on a specifically perfect ringlet, which Blaine swats away.

“Go ahead, make fun all you want,” Blaine mutters miserably, and Sebastian clicks his tongue.

“Why would I do that? It’s sexy like this. I might have to raid your room and steal all the gel.”

The tired smile Blaine gives Sebastian makes it impossibly hard to leave him there. Nevertheless, he stands up and stretches his arms over his head (and does  _ not _ miss Blaine’s eyes flick downward).

“I’ve gotta run. I’m not going to kick you out, but if you can, get out before ten. So Brass doesn’t murder you.”

“You’re letting me stay?” Blaine asks, playing with the blankets absently. 

“I’m not an animal.” Sebastian grabs his lacrosse equipment out from the corner of the dorm. “I just don’t want your death on my conscience.”

Blaine pushes his curls off his forehead and tucks himself back into the bed, facing Sebastian as he hesitates by the door. “Thanks, Bas.”

Sebastian points the lacrosse stick at him. “Just don’t steal my stuff.”

* * *

As Regionals creep closer, lacrosse season picks up, and Sebastian has less and less free time. He really should’ve seen this coming—being in two clubs that practically function as two part-time jobs on top of what’s considered the hardest school year at Dalton was not going to be easy. He’s also never been the best at managing his time. So, more often than not, he’s spending later and later nights hunched over his desk, trying desperately to finish his work before it overwhelms him.

This morning has been an absolute nightmare. He woke up with a headache, he had to run back to his room before a class because he forgot an important textbook, he nearly bites a teacher’s head off for giving him a poor grade (and yeah, maybe it was his fault for not rereading his essay). The day wears on him, and by the time he’s made it to Warbler rehearsal, he’s looking forward to the mind-numbing effects of high school show choir bureaucracy to lull him into what is practically all he can afford as a nap. Instead, as he settles into his chair and prays that David go on a long-winded lecture on the importance of keeping the red piping clean at all times, Blaine barges in and launches the group into a performance of “Misery”.

It’s a fine performance. It’s a  _ good _ performance, if he’s not being bitter about how his own singing makes his brain ping-pong around in his head. Sebastian gets manhandled around by Blaine during the performance, which isn’t really too much of a problem. There’s a point where Blaine tips his head onto Sebastian’s shoulder and sings pleadingly up at him, which does get a smile out of Sebastian, but not much else. 

“What’d you think of the song?” Blaine asks when everything’s said and done, Sebastian picking himself up to head back inside.

“Do you want my honest opinion, or my Blaine opinion.”

Blaine folds his arms over his chest. “Do I want to know the difference?”

Sebastian shrugs. “Well, my Blaine opinion would be something like, ‘Incredible, you were terrific, it’s a shoe-in for Regionals’.”

Blaine looks offended, so Sebastian continues. “But honestly? It’s overdone. The dance circle, the top forties hit, my god, the  _ step touch. _ ”

Sebastian starts towards the rehearsal room, and Blaine jogs a step to catch up with him.

“It sounds like you’re just jealous,” Blaine says, and Sebastian laughs.

“No, you’re one of the best on the team, B. There’s no denying your stage presence. But the judges have seen it.” Sebastian turns to face Blaine, whose face has fallen slightly. He reaches up to adjust Blaine’s collar, and smooths a hand over his shoulder with a scrunch of his nose. “Live a little, right?”

Blaine’s mouth hangs open a little as Sebastian turns around to continue on his path inside. In the room, Thad is giving a passionate lecture to a group of freshmen tenors up front about the importance of projection. Sebastian thought they sounded fine, but that’s not his cross to bear, and he sits on a nearby couch and prepares himself for mental debilitation.

* * *

“You have a lacrosse game tonight.”

Blaine declares this as he catches Sebastian in the hallway, which Sebastian is not even remotely surprised by anymore. Blaine’s classroom isn’t far from Sebastian’s, and maybe Sebastian takes an extra few seconds to pack his things up in order for Blaine to close the distance. Who’s to say.

“Oh, wow, I almost forgot. Thanks.”

Blaine smacks Sebastian’s shoulder. “And you didn’t  _ tell  _ me! I said I wanted to come to one.”

“You need an invitation?”

“It would be nice.”

Sebastian eyes Blaine up and down. “Okay. I am cordially inviting you to my lacrosse game tonight. I am number eight, in case you lose track of me.”

Blaine’s very clearly pleased with this answer. “Thank you. I will be cheering, although I do not know anything about the rules.”

There’s really no way of knowing if Blaine actually showed up to the game or not until Sebastian gets subbed out halfway through the third quarter. He’s center midfield, he’s constantly moving, and the helmet doesn’t provide much by way of peripheral vision. There are a decent number of people in the crowd, too, and it’s no surprise that everyone wears practically the exact same thing outside, too. But sure enough, when Sebastian tugs off the helmet on the sidelines, he squints at the stands long enough to spot Blaine.

Blaine’s as close as he can be, seated closer to the right side. He also seems to be trying to scan the field, checking to see if he’s lost track of Sebastian or Sebastian’s fully not there. When he does spot Sebastian on the side, he waves a hand over his head, and Sebastian laughs. There’s no way he’s interested in the sport at all, yet he stuck around. Sebastian raises his stick in return, and he can’t tell from where he’s standing, but Blaine lowers his hand and seems to be happy with the recognition.

Towards the end of the final quarter, when Sebastian’s back in, the game is going well. Dalton is shaped up to win, 2-0, but of course they’re going to keep trying. Sebastian’s not really sure what happens, but one minute, he’s running with the ball, and suddenly someone is body checking him hard enough to send him tumbling sideways. He skids a bit on his left side, and he’s acutely aware of the ground scraping him up, but there’s a whistle and he knows he has to get himself up. Something in his hip twinges painfully when he does, and when he looks, his knee is definitely bleeding. That’s a problem for future Sebastian.  _ Current  _ Sebastian wants to tear this dude’s head off, but luckily the player gets chucked to the sidelines for the penalty, which happens to run up to the end of the game.

Once they’re done celebrating their win together, Sebastian excuses himself towards the sidelines, where Blaine waits on the lowest bench for him. His cleats make a horrible noise as he clacks on up the metal steps, and Blaine grimaces. The sight is definitely not a pretty one—his left leg is a mess of mud and blood, seeping into the top of his sock. The adrenaline from the game has worn off slightly, and he is much more aware of the stinging sensation. Luckily, his hip has calmed into a dull ache. 

“Are you okay?” Blaine asks, and Sebastian looks down at his leg. He clicks his tongue.

“I’ll deal with it later.”

Blaine seems torn, glancing between the injury and Sebastian’s face, which probably also doesn’t look too hot. He’s sweating but it’s still chilly out, he’s definitely covered in dirt, his hair flops helplessly onto his forehead. Sebastian combs a hand through his hair. 

“Seriously, I’ll shower and it’ll all be fine.”

Blaine hops up and points toward the steps. “Nope, I don’t trust you. Do you even own bandages?”

Sebastian doesn’t answer, and Blaine makes an angry noise and starts shoving Sebastian. As they head back to Blaine’s dorm, Sebastian asks about Blaine’s vague opinion on how he thinks the game went.

“Lots of running. You sure do run a lot,” Blaine laughs, and pulls his jacket closer to his body. “And a surprising amount of hitting.”

“I’ve got stamina. It’s very helpful in other places.”

Blaine makes a grossed out face, and Sebastian gives him a wink. The steps up to Blaine’s room irritate Sebastian’s hip a bit, and he sucks in a breath between his teeth. Blaine knows better than to address it.

Blaine practically manhandles Sebastian and maneuvers him to sit on the bed, grabbing his desk chair so Sebastian can prop his leg up. Sebastian talks absently as Blaine gets to work on him, voice coming out pinched when Blaine starts with the hydrogen peroxide.

“Why do you even  _ have  _ this shit?” he hisses.

“Shh, keep telling me about the game.”

Sebastian rambles about plays that could’ve gone better. His campaign for captain in his senior year, which he pretty much has in the bag. About some of the freshmen and how they practically idolize him, so he gets the ego boost that Blaine gets from the Warblers. When Blaine grabs Sebastian’s arm to start working up there (which Sebastian didn't even know he was bleeding from), he talks more about how he’s been playing lacrosse for a long time. It wasn’t a super popular sport at home in France, but it was fun nonetheless. Other sports he tried, but didn’t like. When he wasn’t sure if he could handle doing theater and playing sports at the same time, for the time commitment. 

He doesn’t even notice Blaine’s fully stopped, too deep into a story about his high school years before he transferred. When he does look, though, Blaine’s fully focused. He has this look on his face that Sebastian can’t read—somewhere between awe and fondness, maybe. Sebastian’s not really sure when he started breaking off into a tangent. It makes him feel weirdly self-conscious.

“Sorry, I got lost in the story a bit,” Sebastian sighs, reaching down to run a hand over the bandage on his knee. “I should get going. I’m probably stinking up your room.”

It takes Blaine a moment, but he looks disappointed that Sebastian’s decided to leave. But he nods and stands up, holding out a hand to help Sebastian up, too.

“Thanks for coming, by the way.”

Blaine smiles a toothy, lopsided smile. “I had a really good time.”

* * *

During the next rehearsal, Blaine looks about as fed up as Sebastian’s felt for the past week. The council is talking about song selections, showering Blaine in not-so-subtle praise, and Sebastian’s mostly tuning it out in favor of figuring out why, exactly, Blaine looks so miserable. Turns out, he doesn’t really need to do so, because Blaine pipes up suddenly.

“No, look. I’m tired of the Warblers being all about me.”

Sebastian sits up. Now  _ this _ will get his full attention.

“We are going to lose at Regionals,” Blaine declares, and the room erupts into protests immediately. Sebastian, so far, is loving this.

“I am incredibly grateful for all the opportunities you have all given me to lead you in song as a junior. But from what I know of our competition, I don’t think we’re going to be able to beat them if we stay within our comfort zone.”

Blaine looks at Sebastian now, and Sebastian raises his eyebrows at him. “Which is why I propose that we rearrange our eleven o’clock number and turn it into a duet.”

Another chorus of protests rings out, Wes’s shitty little gavel banging to try and get everyone in order. David makes some backhanded comment about playing it on kazoos, which seems like an overblown comment at best.

“Point of order!” Blaine continues, now standing up out of his seat. “I think it’s only fair to showcase other voices in this group. For too long the Warblers have felt  _ comfortable. _ We have to live a little.”

Oh. So this little outburst is Sebastian’s fault. His surprise must show on his face, because Blaine looks at him once again and offers a small smile.

“Okay, a vote. Who is in favor of Blaine’s proposal for a duet at Regionals?” Wes asks, and a surprisingly large number of the members raise their hands. Well, actually, not that surprising, because all of them want to audition to get onstage at a pretty widely regarded event.

David begins, “Motion passed. Which means we’ll have to start an auditions process—”

“No,” Blaine interrupts again. This is the juiciest drama Sebastian’s been a part of since he’s been in Ohio. “We don’t have time to waste on auditions. I want to do the duet with Sebastian.”

Sebastian looks around, shocked, for a moment. “You can’t be serious. There are others in here that have been here for longer that deserve a shot, too.”

Blaine’s smiling down at Sebastian, and Sebastian’s heart gives quite a loud thump when he looks up to meet his eyes.

“All in favor of Sebastian being my duet partner at Regionals?”

When Sebastian looks around, the vote is unanimous. It certainly wasn’t what he was going for when he told Blaine his opinion—honestly, there are probably others that would kill and claw their way through Sebastian to get to that duet spot if it weren’t for Blaine on the other end. Blaine sits down and claps along with everyone (why are they clapping, he did nothing to deserve this), that fond, happy look on his face. Sebastian kind of wants to tear Blaine a new one for putting him on the spot like that. But shit, this is his first solo in a show choir. Sebastian smiles back, and this time, it feels genuine.

Sebastian finds Blaine, later that week, messing around on the piano in the rehearsal room. It’s early before rehearsal actually starts, and it’s a rare moment of calm for Sebastian. However, the shenanigans that occurred earlier in the week are still rattling around in his head, so he seeks out Blaine where he figures he would find the other. Blaine is transcribing something; he’ll play a few notes, reach up to write something on the sheet music, and then continue on. Sebastian hesitates by the door, taking a few beats to soak it all in.

“What’s that?” Sebastian asks, and Blaine spins around on the piano bench to smile at Sebastian.

There’s something about his smile, Sebastian decides, that’s so open and welcoming. Like every time he does it, it’s completely genuine. Like all of his being is happy.

“I found the perfect song for our duet, I’m just trying to get it all transcribed.”

Sebastian hums a soft “Ooh,” and moves closer, to which Blaine slides to the end of the bench to free up room. It’s not a lot of room, it would probably make more sense for Sebastian to sit on the  _ floor _ , but Sebastian takes the seat nonetheless. Sebastian grabs the sheet music off the stand and looks it over. He can feel Blaine watching him, and a smirk makes its way onto his face.

“Your little fit in rehearsal? Super hot,” Sebastian murmurs, and Blaine laughs a breathy laugh.

“Yeah, well, I figured I needed to do something bold.”

Sebastian turns to set the papers back down onto the stand. When he turns back around, his knees knock lightly against Blaine’s, and the two of them chuckle. Sebastian’s nervous. He’s not really sure why.

“So, Killer, why did you pick me to sing with?” Sebastian asks, and Blaine shifts in his seat. “Aside from the fact that I’m clearly the next most talented person in that room.”

Blaine holds his gaze for a moment of silence, one that feels like it stretches on a bit too long. If Sebastian were someone else, maybe he’d backtrack, or try to express some form of gratitude that Blaine chose him. But Blaine takes a deep breath.

“Bas, there is...a moment,” Blaine starts, but Sebastian cuts him off by placing his hand on his knee.

“How many times did you rehearse this in your mirror,” Sebastian says, squinting his eyes at Blaine. There’s a moment Blaine is frozen in fear, before just completely dissolving into soft laughter. He curls in on himself, leaning forward, arms wrapped around his own waist, and Sebastian grins as he watches.

“Do you want my honest answer or my Sebastian answer?” he finally says.

Sebastian pretends to mull this over. “I’ll take the Sebastian answer, please.”

“Never. It was a completely impromptu speech.”

Blaine gnaws on his bottom lip, and Sebastian might not be good at reading people, but even he can tell that Blaine’s palpably nervous. Less so, now, but still nervous.

Blaine sighs out a large breath. “Should I take it from the top?”

“If you could just give me the gist of it, that would be great,” Sebastian teases, but it hangs between them. Like they both know the thing they’ve been beating around for months now. That game that both of them have been playing finally landing in a tie.

“Okay,” Blaine breathes. It’s so quiet, Sebastian almost doesn’t catch it.

As promised, it’s Blaine that surges forward. A hand cups Sebastian’s cheek to pull him down into the kiss, and Sebastian follows easily. Fireworks, butterflies, whatever that shit is in romance movies don’t happen, but something equivalent that Sebastian couldn’t describe if he tried, does. Sebastian’s grip tightens in surprise on Blaine’s knee, Blaine leans further into the kiss—Sebastian’s had his fair share of shy teenage kisses, but he’s never felt  _ anything _ comparable in those.

Blaine is also the one that pulls away first, blush high on his cheeks, looking away and laughing nervously. Sebastian watches him, hand not moving from the other’s knee, his heart thrumming loud and proud in his chest. He’s totally losing it.

“We should practice,” Blaine says, still flustered, and Sebastian decides to risk it all and slide his hand a little higher. Blaine just looks at him, mouth slightly open, smiling.

“I think I’d like to hear the rest of that speech, though,” Sebastian leans closer to Blaine, makes a point of watching his lips, “just to really get it, you know?”

Blaine closes the gap between them again, and they don’t move much until it’s nearly time for rehearsal to start. (Nobody says anything to them, though, if they notice anything off about either of them. Sebastian heard murmurs of a betting pool, but those rumors are unsubstantiated.)

They lose at Regionals, but New Directions pulled out original songs, so there’s not much they could do by way of that. Sebastian’s not really upset about it—if anything, he swears vengeance for his senior year. Blaine assures him that they didn’t  _ lose _ , not really, not if they got each other out of it. Which, in retaliation for killing some internal part of Sebastian using those words, Blaine gets chased around the rehearsal room, pillow in hand. 

Now they sit on opposite sides of the couch, backs leaned against each arm rest, legs tangled together (after minor struggling and a kicking match). Sebastian’s book is long-abandoned in his lap, in favor of watching Blaine struggle with what appears to be his French homework.

“You do realize I could help you with that, right?”

Blaine sighs. “I know, but I need to prove that  _ I  _ know how to do it.”

Sebastian smiles to himself and glances at his watch. Five minutes pass, and Blaine throws the workbook at Sebastian, who immediately starts laughing. “Go ahead, smartass,” Blaine grumbles, but there’s a smile on his face.

“You know,” Sebastian drawls, starting to write short hints on each side of the questions, “I never got to hear that touching speech of yours.”

“Considering the backlash I got for being emotionally vulnerable earlier? No way.”

Sebastian holds the workbook out for Blaine to take back. In contrast to Blaine’s rather frantic handwriting, full of connected letters and sprawling loops, Sebastian’s handwriting is small, rather boxy, accentuated with arrows pointing to words and punctuation. Blaine’s fond, puppy dog look is on his face when he makes eye contact.

“Thanks.”

Sebastian hums softly, and continues to watch as Blaine works. Sebastian realizes that sometimes, that focus is directed  _ towards _ him. The specific focus, where nothing else in the room matters because Blaine is paying attention to one thing and one thing only. It’s a look he recognizes from the silent moments of their coffee outings, or debates during Warbler rehearsal where Sebastian’s making a point. Sebastian knocks his foot into the outside of Blaine’s thigh, and Blaine looks up.

“I’m glad you convinced me out of not being the romance type.”

Blaine chuckles. “How’d I do that, exactly?”

Sebastian swallows, and he wants to look away. He doesn’t. “You cared.”

It’s a simple sentiment, yet Sebastian feels silly for saying anything at all. The urge to backtrack or run away is quelled by the soft look on Blaine’s face, that same old puppy dog look that Sebastian’s grown accustomed to, but never wants to stop seeing. 

“Of course I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Man, I'm loving these prompts. They all very quickly get away from me and expand into longer things, which I am not complaining about one bit.
> 
> Also, unless I'm an idiot, there are a surprising lack of seblaine fics named teenage dream. It feels like low-hanging fruit.
> 
> Tumblr is shrack, if you daaaaare~


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